


X-Men: Apocalypse: One-shots and Drabbles

by orphan_account



Category: Post X-men: Apocalypse - Fandom, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Child Abandonment, Daily Dinnertime Drama, Erik stop fucking up my school, Erik too - Freeform, Father issues, Guilt, He's at the school yo, Kurt Wagner centric, Kurt saved him, Let's all just assume Peter told Erik in the movies, More tags as I go, Mother Issues, Multi, Not Beta Read, Peter Maximoff centric, Peter needs his dad, Peter tells Erik, Peturt ?, Peturt lol, Physical Disability, Poor Erik, Raven Darkholme centric, Raven needs a drink, Speciesism, Spoilers, UM EXCUSE ME BUT THEY ARE FAMILY, Unreliable updates, Wanda Maximoff is Erik's kid too, Warren redemption, X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) - Freeform, and maybe a couple of parenting classes, canon? what's that, comic and movie fusion, dadneto, fucking fight me, here there be gramatical errors and mispellings, parenting, precious blueberry muffin Kurt, sweetheart Kurt, um yeah Peter/Kurt happened here, uncle!Erik
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:58:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7074052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>various one-shots I thought of after seeing X-Men Apocalypse.</p><p>I'm going to try and update daily.</p><p>(renamed!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I want you to know me

**Author's Note:**

> I literally held my breath the beginning first 30 minutes of the movie. I thought, this is it, the moment I've been waiting for. MAMA RAVEN.
> 
> But it never came. So I decided to fix that up and throw in some good old angst. Enjoy the pain, ya'll.

 

 

 

"You're.. You're." The kid can't seem to finish, overwhelmed with emotions, awed and excited with glee. The bright smile etched into his cute blue face makes Raven's heart flutter, guilt bubbling up inside her belly. A part her, a tiny small smidgen, wants him to know her. Who she really is. Who she is to _him_. But then he works through his emotions and finally finishes, his fangs cause him to have a slight lisp.

"You're her. The hero."

_Of course_. Of course he doesn't know, or remember. She was stupid to think otherwise. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

"I'm no hero."

What she wants to say is, _yes, I am your mother._

__

But she doesn't.

 


	2. My kid is dating your kid?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um yeah, let's all just assume that movie canon wise Raven is recognized as Kurt's mother and that Peter told Erik that he's his kid too. And that Peter and Kurt hooked up some way. All in the same day. Fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     "Our sons," Erik says a bit dumbly, confusion etched into the fine wrinkles of his face. "Are... _dating_ one another?"

Raven nods, takes a seat beside him and holds out her hand for the bottle of vodka that's held tight in Erik's grasp. He hands it to her wordlessly, still dumbfounded and shocked into utter silence. She takes a swig from the bottle and swallows down the burning liquid, her head throbbing and her feet aching. She's so tired.

"And I have a son?!"

Raven laughs dryly, "Hysterical is not a good look on you, Erik."

The metal ceiling fan above them shakes and sways in response before unscrewing and collasping, clattering to the floor between them. Charles's voice, phsyical and mental, blasts from the floor below, demanding to know what's going on and why Erik was so keen on destroying his school.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know how this happened but I need Peter/Kurt now damnit.


	3. Peter tells Erik via dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, this is the lamest "hey youre my dad" one shot ever and I'm not really all that happy about it because 1) I have not seen FIrst Class or Days of future past because I am but a poor smol adult that doesn't have time or money. 2) I literally pulled most of this out my ass and I struggled to write in the i-always-wondered-about-my-dad angst. So like
> 
>  
> 
> please spare me please

 

 

       It takes time and effort rebuilding the mansion, but thanks to who they are and what they can do, things go a little quicker. And because of that a certain person wants to leave sooner. That said person being Erik Lehnsherr, who is, ya know, Peter's dad. Father. Daddio. Or sperm donor if you ask his mom. But Erik doesn't know that, because Peter hasn't told him. _Yet_. Which is really moronic and a bit selfish on his part, but in Peter's defense he's been known for that sort of thing. He's a huge procrastinator. Just ask his mother. Or his little sister. Who is also Erik's kid. But let's do one thing at a time, okay?  
  
So Charles -- the professor as everyone is so hard pressed to call him -- hires caterers to whip this monster of dinner in farewell of Erik. The students are either terrified or in awe, and it's all really amusing to watch, but it's also super uncomfortable as Raven keeps shooting him knowing glances over the table. Right, right so now his time to tell Erik sooner is even shorter. Because Erik's gonna leave in the morning and Peter doesn't want that. He doesn't want Erik to be alone anymore. So when everyone starts to eat, stuffing their mouths full and silence surrounds the table, Peter blurts out.  
  
"So, Erik, I'm kinda your son?"  
  
And Erik chooses the worst possible time to start choking on his water. Hey, now it's not Peter's fault the guy decided to drink water at the worst moment ever. Everyone watches, mouths gaped open as Erik -- Magneto, this brave hero(?) -- turns red from choking on water of all things. He finally manages to catch his breath (well mainly due to Raven pounding away worryingly on his back) and splutters out, " _What_?"  
  
Peter brings his hands up, flailing them, moving them as he talks, or rather stutters. "W-well, you see, you and my mom had se--"  
  
"I do believe it's bed time, everyone!" Comes Charles's panicked stricken voice over the dinner table. The professor's eyes are wide and there's a blush staining his cheeks and neck, if it were any other time Peter would've laughed. Howled even. But he doesn't. Because it's not funny and he finally knows how it feels to have the other shoe on his foot. Hank, Raven, and the other teachers manage to corral the children up and away in record time, leaving Peter and Erik alone at a disheveled and partially destroyed dinner table. Erik looks lost, so damned confused and worst of, sad. Peter has a hard time dealing with sad people. He generally avoided his younger sister at all costs now that she's going through her mid teenage years -- which is basically her crying over the smallest, irrelevant things. He just doesn't know what to do, or say. He's blunt, a bit, and if anyone asks, he's funny as hell. But this is Magneto, Erik _fucking_ Lehnsherr, who just lost his wife and daughter. The guy's been thrown through the fucking ringer. Peter's pretty sure he's not gonna laugh over some stupid dirty joke. (Which happens to be Peter's forte!)  
  
Peter's nervously wets his dry lips and tries to think of where he should start and say. He, eventually, after rehydrating his lips with his tongue and spit (um, ew), starts off by telling Erik his mother's name. And how he grew up for the better part of his childhood fatherless, but very well loved. Happy. He tells Erik about the curiosity surrounding his mysterious father and how he grew up thinking about him; how he conjured up silly tales about Erik. But then he grows up, acquires a _knack_ for running really super freaking fast and Erik turns out to be very real and dangerous from what everyone tells him.  
  
"But you're not you know," Peter finishes.  
  
Erik tries to protest but Peter holds up a trembling hand in response, his chest heaving. He feels slightly dizzy but he has to finish. To tell Erik how he really feels.  
  
"I should probably clear up that last bit. Okay, so I know you're dangerous. I know what you're capable of. But you're not to me. I don't see any reason _why_ you would want to hurt me. And what I had meant to say earlier, before you interrupted me, is that you're really not a bad guy. You're just.. a guy that made really bad choices and then good ones, and it seems like, maybe, you passed that on to me? Because let me tell you. I have made some pretty bad, _bad_ choices."  
  
Erik looks at him and Peter means _really_ looks at him. As if he's never really seen him before and is finally starting to notice him. He looks flabbergasted, absolutely torn and angry.  
  
"I, uh. Peter.” Erik says a little stiff. “I don’t know what to say, or know what you’re..  _expecting_. I can’t exactly stay and be your father... right now. I’m still a very wanted man, despite my more than helpful assistance in Cairo.”

Peter knows this to be true. He’s been watching the news almost religiously in regards to his father. Erik will not be granted animosity. He understands, but it doesn’t make the knowledge hurt any less.

“I.. I know. I’m not expecting you to stay around and throw a ball with me or _anything_ vaguely normal wise,” Peter tells him. “Just.. just visit me, maybe? And know that you’re not alone anymore.”

Erik swallows against the dry lump in his throat as he blinks away tears, his heart heavy in his chest. “Okay.”

  
“Okay.” Peter repeats with a small smile. “Now let’s stopping gushing about our feelings and re-invite everyone back into the dining room. Because I’m really fucking hungry. And just so you _know_ I was born on the Fifthteenth of July. I’m expecting a lot of birthday presents, better hope you don’t disappoint.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I can imagine Peter's quite the little shit.
> 
> And Wanda is still Erik's kid too because fucking fight me. But I'll leave that alone. (for now)
> 
> come hmu if you got any ideas or anything
> 
> ps: I dont know Peter's bday either. I told you I pulled a lot of this out my god damn ass. RIP.


	4. When Erik meets Kurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. I don't know how this happened.
> 
> But my brain screamed :TEAM FAMILY

 

 

 

When Erik meets Kurt he's hauntingly reminded of Azazel, but not too much. He's the perfect combination of both his mother and father. He has Azazel's ears, teeth (or rather fangs), spade tail and bladed nose. He has Raven's skin tone but is just a shade or two darker, nearly navy he believes. But Kurt's eyes, hands and feet are his own. Red big orbs stare at Erik in admiration and awe, the older man finds it a bit confusing and nauseating. Shouldn't red eyes look monstorus? Threatening? This child is anything but. Kindness oozes out of his pores and for nearly a second, one digusting and amusing second, Erik thinks perhaps Charles fathered this child instead.

Raven comes up from behind Kurt and places a nervous arm around Kurt's shoulders, a smile plastered to her face. "Erik," she says a little breathlessly. "I would like you to meet my son Kurt." She then angles her gaze up to her son. "Kurt, I'd like you to meet Erik...Uncle Erik."

Erik doesn't know how to feel about that. Even more so when the little blue skinned teen thrusts his stubby three fingered hand into Erik's vicinty, stammering out, "N-nice to meet you, **Uncle**."

And he speaks German? Why Raven is full of surprises it seemed.

He smiled softly and took his nephew's hand.

"Nice to meet you, too, Kurt."

Kurt flushes a pretty plum color and hastily averts his gaze. Never had Erik thought he'd see the day one of Azazel's offspring be  _shy._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao what happened.  
> And the whole Charles mention is because of my friend, who acutally thought Kurt was his kid. Needless to say she's going to be mad at me about this.
> 
> Also that one bold word is "german" cus im too lazy to look up the german word for uncle :'D


	5. Devil's Advocate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :") I need some Warren/Kurt ya'll. Though, sadly you won't see it progress in this little one-shot/1st chapter
> 
> I'm seriously considering turning this into a chaptered fic on it's own. I need Warren redemption.
> 
> I have so many ideas for them...
> 
> words: 2035 longest one-shot, yet.
> 
> (And Scott and Kurt are besties :''))

     
  
  
  
  
  
      Kurt finds himself slightly enthralled with the boy from the cage -- who he’s now come to know as Warren. Kurt, however, doesn’t interact with him at all and tries to avoid the other at all costs, too embarrassed and too shy.  
  
Kurt doesn’t hold a grudge against Warren for what happened in Cairo, after all he had been the one to save him, pushing the boundaries of his power’s limitations. He had been sore for weeks afterwards.  
  
Warren is a troublemaker and causes a lot of tension within the school, but Kurt can’t help but feel sorry for him. From what Kurt understands and knows, Warren had been alone prior to the school, only ever having contact with hateful and spiteful mutants haters. Things like that tend to leave a residue that never quite completely goes away. Kurt was lucky that Mystique -- his mother, Raven -- had found himself so quickly. Would he have become like Warren if she hadn’t found him in time? He tries not to think about it too much.  
  
Despite Warren’s surly and volatile nature, Kurt thinks he’s a little lonely. Lost. And in a way, that reminds Kurt of himself. Just a week ago he had no friends. At least none of his age. Just his foster mother’s friends who then became acquaintances with Kurt; if she hadn’t adopted him he’s pretty sure they would’ve never talked or interacted with him otherwise.  
  
“Kurt? _Kuuuurrrttt_? Anyone home?” Scott waved a hand in front of Kurt’s face, smiling. Kurt pushed the other boy’s hand with his tail, huffing. “What is it?”  
  
Scott laughed, “you’ve been sitting there for like 20 minutes not saying anything, staring off into space.”  
  
Kurt blinked at him, confused. “I do not understand. How can I be looking into space if I am here?”  
  
Scott guffawed. “Sorry, sorry. I forget about the whole language barrier sometimes. Um, it pretty much means you’re distracted by something.”  
  
“Oh.” Kurt won’t deny it, americans used such odd phrases.  
  
“But are you?” Scott asks.  
  
“Am I what?”  
  
“Kkkkuuurrrrttt.”  
  
Kurt laughed and shook his head. “I’ve just been thinking about Warren lately.”

Scott furrowed his eyebrows. “ _Why_? That guy’s a total dick head. And you kinda avoid him like the plague... Did he do something to you? Because I’ll blast his ass outta the sky!”  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes, “no! Nothing like that.” Kurt wrinkled his nose. “And there will be no… _ass blasting_. I just think he is lonely.”   
  
Scott sighed and shook his head. “I think sometimes you’re too nice, Kurt. Him? _Lonely_? That guy and his little buddies were set on killing us just a couple of days ago. Not to mention he freaks pretty much everyone out at the school.”   
  
“Scott, everyone deserves a chance to redeem themselves, and it’s not our place to judge.”

“It _is_ if a dangerous person is coming into contact with the school. Which is filled with innocent kids, a few of them really little.”   
  
“Are we all not dangerous in our own right?” Kurt countered with a look. “Your.. beams, Ororo’s lightning, and Peter’s speed. Just because someone is capable of being dangerous it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re bad.”   
  
Scott hung his head and groaned. “You’re right.”   
  
Kurt smiled, his fangs glinting in the light. “Of course I am, _freund_ . Now didn’t you mention something earlier about snacks? I really do enjoy the mall’s food.”   
  
“Crap, Kurt, you’re going to bleed my wallet dry.”   
  
“I don’t understand that either.”   
  
“I think you’re lying, but you’re lucky I like you so much.”   
  
  
  
  
+++   
  
  
  
        Warren hates the school. He doesn't even know why he's here. ( Okay , that's not really true. He's staying here because he has nowhere else to go. No money = no anything.) He doesn't even know why the blue little freak even rescued him. Why hadn't he died? He's thought about it off and on over the past few days. Warren doesn't even know how to feel. Should he be grateful that he had lived? Or angry because someone wanted to continue his miserable life on this miserable planet? Either way, he finds himself out of his element. He has to follow rules. He has to attend classes, even. The headmaster, professor, whatever, had said he would finish his high school education and then go to college if he wanted. Warren had just laughed. It's a funny idea. Him in college. Was the guy blind? How could he ever go anywhere with his wings always out? Now, don't get him wrong, he loves his wings. Loves what he is. Embraces himself 110%, but he loathes humans.   
  
All humans have ever done for anyone is fuck everything up. It wasn't mutants that caused the world wars, it wasn't the mutants that killed their kids for being mutants, it wasn't mutants that tried to oppress everyone else. Humans are bad. Plain and simple. If mutants were running things everything would be so much easier. So for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why anyone was so goddamn happy for humans in a mutant school. He's only heard the professor rave about equality for all about 100 times. It makes him want to take a pen and stab himself in the brain. What bullshit. He also can't stand all the kids. All they ever do is pester him, ask about his wings and if they can touch them. Warren usually responds with a growl and his teeth bared if a hand goes anywhere near his wings. No one touches his wings except him. He is not an angel, despite what he goes by. He’s not a good person, and he knows that.

Warren spends much of his time out on top of the mansion’s rooftops, happy to be away from all the noises and excitement that comes from living in a school. He hides contraband up here and there’s no possible anyone will ever find it unless they come up here specifically. He hides alcohol and weed stashed into tiny alcoves. No one bothers him up here. So he kicks back, wings folded out lazily as he sips from a bottle of brown amber and smokes up a pack camels. It’s not much of a life for him at the moment, but it’s something. He finds his eyes closing shut, just on the verge of falling into sleep when the grumbling roar of an engine catches his attention.

He cracks one eye open and sighs at what he sees. It’s the laser guy and blue kid. Their car was sputtering up the road and pulling onto the gravel driveway. Their radio is cranked up, the music blaring. It gives Warren a headache. He’s got half a mind to flying down there and scare the ever living hell outta them, but he thinks back on one of Xavier’s rules.

 

_No physical fighting. Which pertains to pranks that cause emotional or physical harm._

So instead he watches them from above, hidden behind a window that protrudes outward.

Laser guy, Warren thinks his last name is Summers, parks the car as Wagner teleports to the door in a cloud of inky black-blue smoke. Warren has to admit that’s a pretty nifty mutation.

“Kurt,” Summers’s voice comes from down below. “You gonna be okay for the rest of the day? I really have to go see my parents. I haven’t seen them in a while and after my brother.. they’re kinda protective. After Alex and what happened in Cairo they pretty much want me around them 24/7.”

“Of course I’ll be okay, Scott. Go be with your family. I'll be just fine.”

Ah. Warren remembers Storm telling him that the laser kid’s older brother had died. Summers smiles sheepishly at the other boy before hurrying inside, muttering about packing his bags. He leaves Wagner alone outside.

Warren eyes the blue teen for a couple of moments, debating on whether to fly down and confront him or not. Wagner always seemed to disappear whenever he was around.

He rolls his shoulders, lifting and stretching his wings out. He jumps off the roof, feeling the momentary rush of adrenaline before Warren’s wings lift out. Wagner made a noise that sounded a lot like a shriek at the sight of him. The blue teen had turned nearly purple, stammering out a hello. Was he blushing?

“A-Ah, guten Nachmittag, Warren.”

Warren rolled his eyes. “I don’t speak german, kid.”

“I said good afternoon, and I’m sorry... Sometimes I’ll switch back into my mother tongue without knowing it.”

Okay now Warren feels a little bad. He runs a hand through his messy hair, trying to find something to say. “It’s okay.”

Wagner gave him a small hesitant smile, his eyes lowering to the ground shyly. Dark feathery lashes span across nazy cheeks and -- oh fuck. _No, no, no , no, no_. Nuh uh. Warren most defineity does not find Wagner attractive. Warren took a step back, shaking his head, trying to remember what he had came down for again. Wagner was looking at him with a questioning look, his hand stretched out to touch him. Warren jerked away and knew imdeitaly it was the wrong thing to do. Hurt passed over Wagner’s face, his plush little mouth drooping down in a sad frown.

“I am sorry.” Wagner whispered, his hand hanging limply by his side. “I-I shouldn’t have tried to touch you without your permission.”

“No it’s okay! You can touch me anytime!” 

Wagner was now looking at him in bewilderment, a plum blush spreading across his entire face.

“Shit. I didn’t mean it like that. I just. I’m a big dick, alright?”

Warren can feel his own cheeks heating up. Damn. He’s never felt so fucking tongue tied before.

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Wagner blinked slowly, his red ruby eyes looking quite owlish.

“You wanted to talk. To me?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “Why’s that so hard to believe?”

“Well, we didn’t exactly start off being nice to each other. I thought perhaps.. you didn’t want to be reminded of it.”

 Warren winced, remembering the cage. He also remembered being even rougher than usual when he had faced Wagner in the ring, ego and pride damage after his wing had been fried by the cage’s electricity. He had been so angry.

 

“That wasn’t your fault, and if you don’t remember I told you to fight me.”

 Wagner nodded looking away, “I am sorry.”

 

“Stop apologizing. None of this was your fault. None of it. I’m a dick and after the cage fight, I followed an even bigger dick.”

 “That wasn’t your fault,” the blue skinned teen whispered out. “You were.. tricked? Apocalypse had you and the others believing in a world where only mutants ruled. A world that is unfair for all occupants on earth. A world that promises no more problems.”

 Warren bristled visibly at that. His wings loomed overhead in a threatening display. It took great effort to relax them and keep his emotions under control. “ _Unfair_? You want to talk about unfair for the humans? They’re,” he stopped there, inhaling in a deep breath of air. He hadn’t come to argue. “Whatever. But I wasn’t tricked. I was fully onboard for the destruction of humankind, don’t make excuses for me. I’m not a kid, I’m an adult. I knew what I was doing.”

Wagner sighed. “What have you come for, Warren? You said you came to ask me something, but it seems instead you are perscuting yourself. Are you expecting me to hate you? Do you want me blame you? I don’t understand what you want.”

“I.. came to ask why you were avoiding me. If that you regretted saving me from that fallen warbird.”

“No,” the other boy said softly. “I don’t regret saving you. And I avoided you because.. like I said eariler, and I thought you needed time.” 

“Time for what?”

“To realize you’ve been a second chance, that you are not as bad as a person you think.”

Warren stood there, flummonxed.

This kid was a real engima. Finding that he had nothing else to say he lifted his wings up in the air and flew away. Just what the fuck had happened?

  
  
  
  
Kurt watched as Warren flew away, confused at what just took place. He feels a little better, however. That’s the most Warren’s ever spoken to anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kurt is super sympathetic in my book and I kept thinking how Kurt would be effected by the whole langauge barrier and the odd phrases us Americans use. :P
> 
> Okay so my Warren is a lot different canon-wise. Warren's a rich kid in canon but the movie gave me such strong Greaser!Warren vibes
> 
> And yeah he came back with them to the school because fuck canon lol


	6. (Not) A Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :"((( My brain said: insecure!Kurt and best friend/big sister!Jean.

 

 

           Kurt was scared. Scott and Jean told him earlier that day that a family was coming to visit and check out the school for their son. Not a whole lot of people passed through since Kurt had been there and he found himself fretting nervously over the aspect of guests. After all, everyone reacted to him differently, and he didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardise the family’s opinion of the school. Just because there were other mutants around that didn’t necessarily mean he was one of them. It’s odd to be an outcast of outcasts but at least he had his friends (no matter if they're short in numbers or not). So he found himself mostly in his room despite his friends pleading and badgering. He had faked a cough and claimed he was sick, which worked for everyone save Jean. The redhead had eyed him knowingly, her green eyes piercing. There was no fooling her it seemed.

 

“Kurt, why don’t you want join us? I know you’re not sick.” Jean demanded once the others had left his room. Jubilee had distracted the others with a promise of a small ‘fireworks’ show, drawing the attention off of him which he was immensely grateful for.

 

“I am sick,” he insisted, not meeting Jean’s gaze. Jean sighed heavily and placed her hands on her hips, cocking her head.

 

“Just tell me, Kurt. We’re friends, aren’t we? You can tell me anything.”

 

Kurt dropped his gaze and began to run his hands nervously along his knees, his heart clenching in his chest. They were friends. Kurt’s only friends ever. There had been other children in the circus, not many but a few. But not every member of the circus had been particularly nice to him. His ‘friends’ had been his foster mother’s friends, people that were older. And they couldn’t really connect with someone younger than them. His lips darted out to wetten his dry lips.

 

“I just.. do not want to make anything bad.”

 

Jean frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean _bad_?”

 

Kurt drew his legs closer to his chest, hiding his face.

 

“The family that’s coming here. I’ll.. I’ll scare them away.”

 

“Oh, honey, no.” Jean said softly. She took a seat beside him on the bed and placed a hand on Kurt’s shoulder. He then flinched away from her touch, scooting farther along the bed.

 

“Kurt,” she said in a small voice. “You won’t scare them away.”

 

“I will,” he replied back, his tail flicking angrily behind him. “I’m a… a  _teufel._ A monster.”

 

“No, no. You’re not. Kurt, you’re not a monster. You’re a mutant. We both are and being what we are doesn’t make us monsters.”

 

Kurt shook his head. He knew she wouldn’t understand. She at least looked human.  But him? He looked like a devil and because of that he was extremely envious. Bitter. Why had he been cursed to look this way while Jean and others looked relatively.. normal? It wasn’t fair. What had he done to make God so upset with him? To punish himself in this kind of way?

 

“Nein.” He whispered out, tears pricking his eyes. “Look at me. Fangs, a tail, and red eyes. Three fingers... my feet. I am a devil. I am a _deformity_.”

 

Jean sat there in silence before moving forward and giving Kurt a light hug. He had stiffened during it but didn’t move away and found himself leaning into the warmth. He had to admit. It was nice being touched. Hugged. Without someone cringing away from him. Perhaps he was selfish. How could he complain when he had friends that accepted him? Why did it all bother him so much? Kurt sniffled into Jean’s shirt. Jean sighed, running a hand through his hair and bangs. “You don’t have meet these people if you don’t feel comfortable. But I do think you should talk to the professor later. You’re not a monster, Kurt. There’s no possible way someone as sweet as you could ever be a monster.”

  
Kurt still didn’t believe her even after she had held him and cried, not even after she had left him alone in his room. He had wanted to believe her. _God_ , did he want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay the deformity thing came about with me and my friends when we were discussing Kurt canonically wise (in the comics). In a lot of the comics Azazel has 5 fingers and toes and only recently have I seen him drawn with with only three fingers. And only recently has it be mentioned that apparently all neyaphem (biblical mutant race) have three fingers and two toes, and a prehensile tail.
> 
> So for a long time I thought maybe Kurt had a slight disformity, or his x-gene had caused him to develope differently due to who his parents were; that maybe his index and middle, ring finger and pinky might've fused together while he was in the womb? I thought it might've been neat if Kurt was really like that in comics, bringing more aware to birth defects and other disabilities.
> 
> I had wanted to continue this even more with the idea that Kurt comes across the new student's little sister in some way and she has amniotic band syndrome and have lost two of her fingers on one hand. She would've said something along the lines of how Kurt and her "looked" alike.
> 
> So cue little girl cheering Kurt and Kurt cheering the little girl up.
> 
> This was kinda inspired by my sister, who is affected by ABS.
> 
> But sadly, I couldn't find the effort to finish it.


	7. Silver Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I wrote this for kXzEcho :'D
> 
> who sent me this:
> 
> 'Okay, so when I was watching Apocalypse, I couldn't help but wonder if Kurt and Peter would have spent any amount of time together recovering in like a built in hospital-like wing of the School for the Gifted (it is a boarding school, after all). Peter, of course, had his leg broken and Kurt probably would have needed to recover from the shock teleporting that many people at once had. Those two seemed to get probably some of the worst injuries after the whole event (aside from Warren who is most likely dead--that broke my heart but I'm glad you said "fuck it" and brought him back in that one shot you literally just posted :p).
> 
> I wonder if that could be a potential starting point for their relationship outside of the brief dialogue they exchanged when traveling into battle. Like, this could be the start of potential romantic interest towards the each other (or at least for one of them) or just a close friendship. Either way works.
> 
> Let me know what you think of the idea and if you're interested in writing it. If not, I'm cool with that too :P'
> 
> And I thought it was a wondeful idea. This comes to around 6000 words roughly but I've cut a lot of dialouge and added things so... 
> 
> also the italcized " " is supposedly german. I did this because I didn't want to butcher the language by going to google translate or any other terrible translation app.
> 
> Guys, I'm just honestly so amazed. This story has 22 subs, and 8 bookmarks. I didn't expect to get that many but I did. Thank you!

 

 

 

“10 to 13 weeks,” Peter says lowly, repeating just what Dr. McCoy told him. “What the hell am I going to do until then?!”

Hank shrugged, busying himself with preparing another cot just beside Peter. They had fashioned one of the dorm rooms into a temporary hospital as half the mansion was still being reconstructed. “You should really take the time to rest and relax, Peter. Your bone was protruding from your skin, and I don’t really care what you do so long as you’re in that bed and not putting any pressure on that leg. And you’ll only have to stay in bed until 8 weeks, after that you can move around. Aided with crutches of course.”

Peter groans and flops back against his pillow. Everything he wanted to do involved him getting up and moving around. He was not the type of person to just lay around all day. It hasn’t even been an hour into wearing his cast and he already feels the urge to remove the damned thing.

“ _ Hannnkkk _ , what am I going to do? I’m gonna die of boredom. You don’t want me to die, do you?” He whined pitifully.

The doctor rolls his eyes. “Read? Draw? I even have a tv set up here for you. What more do you want?”

 

“For my leg not to be broken.” Is Peter’s sullen reply.

 

Hank chuckles in response, shaking his head. “Sorry, but enhanced healing, or not you're lucky to even have a right leg.  That thing was mangled, and if you had been human you would've lost it. You’re going to have to sit this one out.”   Peter closes his eyes at Hank’s laughing and wonders if there’s any possible way Hank will put him into a induced coma. There’s no possible way he’ll survive 8 to 10 weeks confined to bed rest. “Just kill me. I don’t think I can go on like this.”

“Now there you’re a lot like Erik, very dramatic the both of you. Now I’m going to go get my other patient, are you going to behave while I’m gone for a couple of minutes?”

Peter doesn’t know whether to be offended, or not by that. He promises Hank he’ll be good anyway. He tries to occupy his mind by counting ceilings tiles but by the time he gets to the tenth one he feels almost hysterical. It’s like his mind couldn’t stop thinking. He couldn’t calm down. It was a never ending buzz of go, go, go. He shuts his eyes, trying to will away invading thoughts. He tries one of his sister’s techniques for calming down and begins to count down from 100. Somehow it works and he manages to fall to asleep. Which is surprising because it usually takes forever for him to unwind and settle down. Maybe he was tireder than he thought and he should most definitely call Wanda later to tell her he loved her.  It doesn’t really matter anyway when he wakes up again, in what feels like seconds later. But when he opens his eyes the room is dark and silent and there’s another person in the bed across from him, dozing peacefully. His bladder almost felt like bursting. Peter shoots upward into a sitting position, hissing slightly at the twinge of pain that shoots up his leg. The noise wakes up his roommate and Peter nearly falls off his bed. Yellow eyes glow across the room from him, blinking sleepily.

“Fuck, man!” Peter shrieks, hand over his beating heart. “Warn a guy next time!”

The eyes blink even more, confused.

“What?” The w of the word comes out like v and Peter manages to place a face to the yellow eyed stranger. It was the german blue guy. He feels a little bad not knowing the kid’s name, but to be fair a lot had happened over the past week. Peter released a sigh, happy to know he wasn’t facing certain doom. “Sorry,” Peter whispers. “Your eyes just startled me.”

“Oh,” the kid says, sounding a little sad, a little hurt. Fuck. That was the wrong thing to say. God, Peter, just put your entire foot in your mouth you total dick.

“It just took me by surprise. My, uh, sister glows, too. Well when she uses her powers, not just her eyes. So I am very familiar with the glowstick gang.”

“Oh.” the kid says again and god if he isn’t the worst conversationalist, but then again it was ass’o’clock in the morning and Peter had woken him up.

“So I’m Peter. Well, Pietro but only my immediate family -- which is basically just my mom and sisters -- call me that. And usually when I’m in trouble.”

The kid gives a little laugh at that, amused.

“Nice to meet you, Peter. I am Kurt Wagner. And I would very much like to go to sleep now.”

“Yeahh… but I kinda got this problem. Hank really didn’t think out this whole no moving thing.”

Kurt shuffled in his bed, drawing back his covers. “What do you need?”

“ _ IkindaneedyoutotakemetothebathroomsoIdon’tpissallovermyself.” _

“I have no idea what you just said,” Kurt tells him with a frown. The blue teen crosses the room and to the light switch mounted near the door, turning on the light and blinding the both of them. 

 

“Okay, wow. Um, I will reiterate what I said earlier -- warn a guy. I think my eyes might’ve been burnt out of my skull. Shit.”

“You swear an awful lot,” Kurt huffed. “And can you repeat what you said earlier? You were talking too fast.”   
  


Peter swung his left leg over the side his bed before carefully rearranging his right broken one beside it. “I need help getting to the bathroom. There’s no way I’m letting a catheter anywhere near me and I’m not asking for a bed pan from Hank.”

The thought is mortifying..

“So you rather..ask me, a stranger, to help you to the toilet?”

“Yes..?” Shit. That hadn’t meant to come out as a question.

Kurt shook his head, his bangs swaying. “You are a very strange person, speedster.”

Peter rolls his eyes, holding his hand out. “Just help me. I’ll owe you.”

Kurt stretches out his hand and pulls Peter to his feet, his yellow eyes keeping a close look on Peter’s injured leg. Peter feels bad to admit it, but he had expected Kurt’s skin to feel different than his own. But it was soft. Softer than his. Which is really weird. Did Kurt use moisturizer?

“Are you alright? In any pain?” Kurt asks, breaking through Peter’s thoughts.

“Nah, I’m good.. really good. Now help me hobble my ass into the bathroom.”

Peter wraps his arm around Kurt’s shoulders, teeter-tottering on his one leg. He then realizes how botched up this plan really was. While Kurt might be tall, he’s skin and bone. Peter’s only a little bit bigger than him. They struggle together, hobbling to the bathroom. Peter’s glad there’s a private bathroom in the room, because otherwise he doesn’t think they would’ve made it farther than six feet. Kurt shoulders the door open, his whip thin tail snaking up and turning on the light. Peter grunts as he is pushed/laid down against an open toilet, the porcelain startlingly cold. Kurt huffs and puffs, his body trembling. 

Shit. Peter really should’ve sucked up his pride and let Hank put a catheter in. Kurt’s hardly even moved and the kid’s completely exhausted. Almost to the point where Peter’s afraid he’ll pass out.

“You got messed up in that battle, too, huh?” Peter asks.

Kurt’s nods his head, his hands shaking as he runs them over his pajama pants. “But not as badly as you.”

“I don’t know. Let’s agree to disagree, huh? And maybe you can turn the other way? I doubt you wanna see me pee in front of you.”

Kurt doesn’t even bother to turn his head away but closes his eyes.

Wow, Peter thinks, this guy is really out of it. By the time Peter’s done with his deed and washes his hands, (he manages a complicated position seated on the toilet) he finds Kurt sleeping in the corner of the room. Peter doesn’t have the heart to wake him, so he snatches the bath towel off the wrack behind him and puts it around the kid awkwardly. He then gets a towel for himself, sighing at their horribly weird circumstance, and tries to get as comfortable as possible. Hank’ll probably blow a gasket at the sight of them sleeping in a bathroom, but Peter’s far too tired to care.

  
  
  


Peter’s awaken by the sound of Hank’s angry voice. He blinks blearily at the blue furred mutant that stands in the doorway of their bathroom, arms crossed and the veins in his neck jumping.

“Hey, Hank.” Peter smiles, a bit nervous. “How’s your morning going, big guy?”

Hank doesn't even blink which Peter finds completely scary.

“Would you care,” Hank says softly and precisely, almost gentle. “to tell me why you both are asleep in the bathroom, when I strictly stated that you were to be on bed rest?”

“I had to pee,” Peter replies, which is the truth. He nodded his head in the direction of Kurt, who was still sleeping and curled up underneath a hideous burgundy towel. He reminded Peter of a kitten. “I figured we’d be great bathroom buddies, blueberry and me.”

Hank closes his eyes and sighs, mouthing  _ bathroom buddies _ .

“And it never occurred to you to call for help?”

Peter snorted. “Dude, I'm not an eighty old year woman. I am totally fine.”

“No, you're not.” Hank agrees. “But you're a twenty seven year old man that can't seem to understand the concept that you're injured and that you need rest. Also, you're not fooling anyone that you're ‘okay’.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“Nope.”

“Are you going to carry me out via bridle style?”

“What do you think?”

Peter groaned. “Aw, man. At least make it quick. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Hank rolled his eyes once again before lifting Peter up and off the lid. He carried the other man back into the room and placed Peter back on the nearest bed. Hank went back to the bathroom and returned with Kurt curled up in his arms a moment later. Kurt was awake now, his hair disheveled and his eyes unfocused. The guy looked wrecked, and not in the good sex way. Kurt’s skin surrounding his eyes are a darker blue and his cheeks looked hollow. Peter hadn't noticed any of that last night.. he can't believe he had basically forced the kid into helping him. 

“Kurt, you really should've stayed in bed. You're completely exhausted and you're never gonna get better if you let Peter boss you around.” Hank said softly to Kurt.

“Hey! I do not boss!” Peter shouted from his bed.

Kurt sank into his bed, nearly swallowed up by the blankets. A muffled voice replied to Hank, sounding pitiful and small.

“I am sorry, Herr McCoy. For..forgive me.”

Peter thinks he's never heard a more sorrowful tone before.

“It’s alright. But you're not to move unless you're assisted.” Hank tells him, his eyes swivel over to Peter, narrowing. “The both of you.”

Peter just gave him a grin in response.

“Now I'm going to get you both some breakfast. Any requests?”

“Nothing really,” Peter answers him. “I'm so hungry I could eat anything. Well, not anything. Not anything human.”

Hank just stares at him before turning his attention to Kurt.

“Can I have milk? Please?” Kurt asks from under the blankets.

“Alright,” Hank says. “I’ll be back in a second. Behave.”

The last part is directed at Peter. Typical. Peter watches him leave and resists the urge to say, _technically I'm the only one that can be back in a second._

Hank’s only been gone for a moment or so when Kurt’s face peers out from the dark covers of his blanket.

“Hey, Blueberry!” Peter hisses.

Kurt glares at him.

 

“What?”

“Sorry. For, ya know, waking you up and helping me to the bathroom. And for spending the night on a hard ass, cold bathroom floor.”

“Okay.” Kurt says back.

“Okay? That's it? No getting mad and smacking me upside my head?”

“No.. do you want me to hit you?”

“Uh, maybe? It would make me feel a little better because I'm a jackass.”

 

Kurt's brow wrinkles in an almost adoring way to Peter. Kurt shifts in his little nest of blankets, muttering under his breath in his native tongue. “ _ What a strange person.” _

 

It makes Peter smile. 

“ _ I am strange.” _

He openly laughs at the startled look that passes over Kurt’s face.

He thinks Kurt’s big eyes gleam a little.

“ _ You speak…? _ ” Kurt’s voice trailed away, suddenly nervous, as if he was ashamed for being excited.

_ “Yes, my mother was romani. She taught me and my sister many languages. I haven't spoken german in a very long time so forgive me if I get confused. _ ” Peter answers back quickly.

Kurt seems to perk up at that.

“ _ There were many in the circus. My mother is romani, as well.” _

Peter falls silent at that, Kurt had never mentioned a mother, or anything else since he’s been here. Peter feels a little ashamed with how little he knows about the other person. He, however, skirts over the mention of Kurt’s mother.

“ _ So you were in the circus? Do you miss it?” _

Kurt nods his head, an almost dreamy look on his face. “ _ Yes, or I miss what it was.” _

“ _ Tell me about it? _ ”

  
  
  
  


Hank’s just turning the corner of the hallway to open his pseudo hospital room door when he hears both Kurt and Peter talking to each other softly in german. He paused, listening, seeing no harm in it. He didn’t understand german so it wasn’t exactly like he was eavesdropping. But he admits he’s a little surprised Peter speaks it so well. It’s not exactly like Erik was around to teach him. Maybe his mother? That’s the only feasible explanation Hank can think of. (He highly doubts he learned the language from in school.)

 

He sits and listens. Kurt sounds more confident then Hank has ever heard him before. He decides to wait outside for a couple of more minutes before entering. The boys deserved some privacy after all.

  
  


+++

 

Peter finds him easily enraptured by Kurt’s tales of living in the circus, and even finds himself surprised when Kurt talks about his mother -- a human foster mother that had accepted him without a second thought. Which is very rare given the influx of mutants over the years and the very open hatred for them. This lady must be a saint, or something. (Wait, that was probably a bad analogy, wasn’t it? There were plenty of influential religious leaders that hated mutants..)

He wonders if they had they parted on bad terms? Because what mother lets her barely adult kid leave home? The thought makes Peter sad, who tries to imagine if he and his mother had ended things terribly. He misses his own mother horribly.

“ _ Did you leave the circus? _ ” Peter asks, and now that he’s thought about it, how did he come to Xavier’s anyway? There hasn’t been any time for an introduction these past few days.

Kurt frowns. “ _ I was.. coerced? An american man had bought the circus and wanted me to be in the freak show, where I would be caged up. My mother was outraged and had threatened to leave as did the others. The man was ready to throw them out, uncaring. But I knew I couldn’t let this happen. All they have ever known is the circus, and many of them had small children.. I couldn’t let that happen. So I left. _ ”

Peter finds Kurt’s selflessness amazing, inspiring even. He can’t exactly place Kurt’s age, but he knows he’s young. Middle or late teens. But still so very young to have left home. Peter hasn’t even left his home, yet, and he’s probably got three, or four years on Kurt.

“ _ What happened next? _ ”

“ _ I roamed for a bit, from village to village, begging for food, sleeping under bridges. Eventually I was picked up. Taken and placed inside a dark object of some sort. It was several days before I was let back out, _ ” Kurt took a shuddering breath here, his tail ficking angerily behind him. “ _ I was brought to the cage. A mutant fighting ring. The boy with the wings were there. They told us to fight each other _ .”

Peter can't imagine a more horrible circumstance. 

“ _ But she was there. She saved me. _ ” Kurt’s voice shook here.

“ _ Who _ ?” Peter asks.

 “ _ Mystique. Raven. _ ” Kurt looks a little nervous using Mystique real name.

Peter smiles. 

“ _I was very confused when suddenly the lights had went off in the building and the cage’s electricity had stopped working. I teleported out into the crowd, panicked until I saw her. Standing there in another's skin and suddenly her’s._ _She called out to me and I reached for her hand. I teleported us out. It’s silly but.. It felt like she was there just for me.”_

Peter’s just about to answer when a knock on the door startles them both. Kurt wipes quickly at his eyes, cheeks tinting a dark purple. Hank comes in, carrying plastic trays of breakfast food. Peter’s stomach gives an audible growl at the sight, earning a rumbling laugh from the blue doctor. 

 

“Peter,” Hanks lays one tray on the short nightstand beside Peter’s bed. It has a much more substantial amount of food then Kurt’s plate. Peter does, after all, burn through calories like it's nothing. He needs more food food to compensate, or he’ll be a tired and exhausted mess. Not to mention he'll become slightly grumpy. Hank hands Kurt his own tray, which Kurt accepts happily with a thank-you murmured softly in german. Kurt brightens significantly at the sight of milk in a small carton. Peter's already eaten more than half of his portion by the time Kurt is even beginning. “Thanks,” Peter manages to say around a mouthful of eggs. “I was starving.”

Hank hums, “yeah, sure you are. I've got work to do. Is there anything you two would like before I take off? Mystique and Charles will look in on you periodically.”

Peter shakes his head and looks over to Kurt who just smiles.

“I do not need anything, Herr McCoy.”

“You sure? You're not gonna be bored?” Hank asks.

“I am sure. Pietro, is very nice company. He will keep me entertained.”

“Dude! What did I say about using my real name?!”

Kurt laughs into his carton of milk, his skin a beautiful contrast against the milk mustache he has. Peter very pointedly does not look Kurt. He's a little mad and a little aroused and damn it does it confuse him. Kurt was very cute, that was a given. His personality drew in everyone. But for Peter to be actually attracted? It's a very confusing thing. Not because he's homophobic or anything, but because he's always liked girls. But Kurt.. he does something a little different for Peter. He shoves more eggs into his mouth as Hank and Kurt continue laughing. The blue fuckers.

  
  
  


+++

  
  
  


The next time Peter and Kurt talk, after breakfast of course and after Hank has left, it's Peter's turn as Kurt insists. 

“Aw, man. Do I have to? My life was pretty boring before all the mutant stuff.”

“I do not believe that. Didn't you say earlier your mother was roma? How about you tell me a story about her? Your sister, maybe?”

Oh. He guesses he can do that. Peter pats the place in front of him and looks at Kurt.

“You want me to sit in your bed?”

“Yeah, duh, it's story time. All listeners have got to, like, sit within seven inches of the story teller. Sorry, I don't make the rules.”

Peter tries very hard not to laugh at the confused look on Kurt’s face. Kurt stands up from his bed, wobbling a bit, and crosses the room to sit on Peter’s bed. The blue teen flops down with a pained groaned, laying on his stomach. “My everything hurts.” he moans.

Peter also tries really, really hard to not imagine Kurt’s other everythings. 

Kurt looks up at him with wide expecting eyes. Peter wracks his brain for something; for traditions, stories and holidays. He settles for what he thinks is one of his mother’s favorite stories. He can't be sure however. As he never asked her.

“So, my mother use to tell me and my sister about  _ O Bashnuvosko Dzhes _ .” Peter started off softly, trying to remember how his mother had told it. She had almost always retold the story in a soft spoken tone. It felt wrong to try and begin the story any other way.

“A long time ago the Turkish decided to wipe out the Roma genus. That mean no children, or no boys. They went from door to door and wherever they found a boy they killed him. A woman had a three-year-old son and she wondered desperately how to save him. She took a rooster from her coop and slaughtered the animal. The mother then spread the blood upon their door, marking it, in hopes that the soldiers would think someone had already been there and disposed of any children. The soldiers eventually came, the mother spying out her shutters, and her heart racing. She clutched her son to her chest and prayed. Once the soldiers took notice of the blood on the door, one of them said aloud: ‘They have already been here. There is no boy any more’. Through the mother's quick thinking and by the grace of god, the boy was saved.” 

Peter exhaled a little breath, his eyes tearing.

“My mother told us the story every Bashnuv Day, because we, the Roma, have been always chased.”

“It’s beautiful, Pietro.” Kurt replies softly. 

Peter nodded his head, laughing. “I guess. But it has a lot of similarities with other religions doesn't it? Seems silly to put faith into a copy of a story.”

“Are you not religious like your mother?” 

“Kind of, not really? I don't really know how to explain it properly. I kinda go with the flow. I don't need rules set out for me.”

Kurt hummed.

“Doesn't your mom talk about  Romani things?” Peter asks Kurt.

“She use to,” Kurt answers. “But sometimes the ringmaster would become angry whenever she talked of such things. It has lessened over the years until finally she stopped.”

“That's horrible.” Peter says. “I want to punch the guy in the throat.”

Kurt laughed, his fangs glistening under the florescent lighting in the room. “Yes, it was horrible. And you're very.. funny.”

“Hey, what's with long pause? Are you trying to be sarcastic, or something?” 

“Nothing of the sort.” Kurt says laughing.

Peter rolls his eyes, but finds his heart beating out of control by the sound of Kurt’s laughter. (You know you're screwed if your faster-then-regular-heart is beating even faster.)

“What does your mother think? About all of this? Your sister, too. Do they worry for you?” Kurt asks.

“Worrying about me because I'm a mutant, or because I'm involved with a lot of… problems?”

“Both, I suppose.” Kurt says.

Peter sighs, soothing a hand over his hair. “Uh, I think my mom would've worried. A lot. My sister, she's my twin actually, worries a hell of a lot. She's a mutant, too. But she pretty much likes to live in ‘ignorance is bliss’.”

“I.. notice you use different words for your mother.. I thought maybe I just did not understand. Because of how complex the English language is. But.. you use these words often. Is your mother dead?”

“Yeah,” Peter says. It's been years, but it still hurts so much. “And they're called tense words, at least I think they are. I've pretty much forgotten everything I've been taught in school.”

Kurt makes a high pitched noise, almost a whimper. “I am so sorry.”

“It's not your fault, Kurt. I didn't exactly out right say it either. And it’s not like you were being malicious trying to mention my mom.”

“I know but.. I kept asking about her.”

“It's okay. She's been gone for a while. My aunt Marya’s pretty much my mom now. And I have Wanda.”

And Erik, but he doesn't say that.

Kurt slides closer across the bed, his tail snaking through the blankets and wrapping itself comfortably around Peter’s other cast free leg. Peter almost squeals at the feeling and wonders if Kurt hadn't meant to do that, or if he had done it on purpose. Maybe it was his way of giving a hug? But he kept coming closer until he and Peter were brushing the sides of each other's bodies.

“That is good you have your aunt. And your sister. It would be terrible to be alone.” Kurt then rests his head against Peter’s shoulder, curling inwards and drawing the blanket over the both of them. Peter notices his eyes drooping. Kurt was struggling to keep awake.

“Kurt.. have you been forcing yourself to stay awake this entire time?”

“No?” Is whispered into Peter’s clavicle, Kurt’s lips ghosting across his skin.

“Yeah. You’re a shit liar. And I think you're secretly a cat. You're using me for warmth, aren't you?” Peter asks, faking hurt.

“Now that,” Kurt yawns, his warm breath fanning across Peter’s skin. Peter tries to not shiver and fails terribly. “I would not lie about it. You are.. nice. But you do happen to be very warm.”

Peter's cheeks heat up and brings his hand up to pat Kurt’s sleepy little head. “I guess it's nap time then. Night, Kurt.”

“Night, Pietro.”

Kurt is a warm comfort against his skin and pretty soon Peter joins him in sleep.

  
  
  


_ ×××××× _

  
  


Hank looked from the papers he had been skim reading and up to the door of his workshop. Raven stood in the entrance way and waved, holding up a tupperware of food. It smells like Chinese take out.

“You missed lunch.” She said in lieu of greeting. She comes forward and sets the the plastic container on the very edge of Hank’s desk. 

Hank groaned. “Really? I hadn't planned on staying down here so long.. I just got so..” He holds his hands out to his desk which mostly covered in blue prints, order forms and tools.

“Caught up?” She suggests with a little grin. “It's fine, Hank.”

“No it’s not. I should be better at taking time outs, or setting up a timer for myself. I'm a grown man. This is ridiculous.” Hank sets his papers off to the side and picks up the container. He peered inside. Fried rice, lo mein noodles and bits of shrimp and chicken. Yum.

“Hank,” Raven says again. “It's fine. It happens to the best of us.”

“Still. It's ridiculous and..” Oh god. He had forgotten about Kurt and Peter. He stood up, panicked, only to be pushed back down into his seat by Raven.    “And I checked on the kids,” she reminded him. “Because you asked me to. Earlier.”

He released a relieved breath. “Were they okay?”

She nodded. “They were.. little angels.”

“Angels?” Hank asks, a little incredulous. Maybe Kurt, but Peter?

She nodded her head, repeating her statement. “Angels.. I went in there and they were sleeping. In the same bed. Curled up around each other. I think Kurt might've purred, but it was hard to tell over Peter’s loud snoring.” 

Hank tries to not grimace at the idea that Raven's (and Azazel's) child and Erik’s child were in the same bed together. But it was mainly due to the image of the parents, not the boys themselves. Kurt is a off limits discussion most of the time anyway, as Raven had yet to tell him who she was to him. “Did they eat lunch?”

 

“Oh yeah,” Raven said laughing a bit. “You should've seen it. Peter was trying to teach Kurt  how to use chopsticks. It was really funny.”

Hank hums, digging into his food. He hadn't noticed how hungry he was.

“And Kurt was hanging on to his every word. It was endearing. By the time I had left Peter had moved on into teaching Kurt about Pink Floyd. Kurt might've insulted Peter when he accidentally called it Pink Flamingo.”

Hank snorted into his noodles. “Oh god. That's.. that's really cute.”

Raven nods, her smile wanning. “He's a lot different from..  _ him _ .”

Hank doesn't have to ask to know who she's talking about it. He digs around in his noodles, trying to find something to say. “Are you ever going to tell Kurt?”

“That I abandoned him? That his father used me and threw me away?” Raven asked softly, her voice trembling.

“I'm sorry.”

“No.. it's okay, and Charles has been asking me the same thing. I don't know what to do. He's more then welcomed in the school and he's happy right now. What if I tell him and it changes everything?”

“Of course it's going to change things, Raven. There's not an easy outcome to this. And the longer you wait the longer he might be upset.”

Raven sighed, her head in her hands.

“I guess. But I'm not suited to be a mom.”

Hank doesn't say thing because he doesn't know what to say. Raven scoots closer next to him and holds out her hand for the container, which he happily hands over. They eat together in silence, arms brushing together every now and then. Hank can't help but think about if he and Raven had been together at that time, that Kurt might've been his rather than  _ his _ . It makes his heart ache because he could see it so clearly. He could see a family with Raven. But he knows differently. And the thought of Kurt with fur is too odd.

  
  
  
  


Week 7

  
  


During the time Peter and Kurt had spent together, sleeping in each other’s beds, swapping stories of their families and childhood, spending every waking moment with one another, they had grown close.  Even though Kurt has recovered weeks ago he still manages to linger around, listening and talking to Peter. Others come by and do the same thing but with Kurt it's just so much more. Peter's confused on how to put it into words. Best way he could explain it was that he just really fucking likes Kurt. A lot. He not so sure it’s, oh god, _love_. (But it's getting there quick.) Kurt's just too likeable. With his naiveté, innocence, and happy go lucky personality he's very different from everyone else. In way, Peter can call him sheltered.  But he knows that's not particularly true. Kurt's seen things.  And another thing about Kurt -- the kid actually and genuinely listened to him. He asks Peter questions about everything, and he actually sits there and listens when Peter goes on and on. He doesn't ever interrupt and keeps all his questions till the end. It's very different as opposed to the people that get annoyed when he rambles on and on, more so when he talks too fast for them to understand.

Today they had moved on to the topic of movies: Disney in specific. Kurt loved them. They started with Pinocchio, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, and the Aristocats.

Kurt had cried throughout Pinocchio, had become upset with the evil stepmother of Snow White’s ( “What? Why would someone do that to a child?” “Aw, Kurt, don't think too hard on it. Some people are just evil, and it’s just a movie.” ), and loved the Aristocats. The last movie they watched, undoubtedly, became Kurt’s favorite. It was pretty funny watching Kurt watch the movies. He became so absorbed into the movie everything else faded away until Peter shook him or called his name. It was nice watching movies with Kurt. It brought Peter a sense of nostalgia as he hadn't watched any Disney films since he had been a child. It was really nice when Kurt curled up against his side, his tail swaying back in forth. Peter had even wrapped an arm around Kurt’s shoulders. Kurt immediately launched into a series of questions as soon as the movie had ended, his talking nearly as fast as Peter’s own. And in that moment Peter's brain had stopped working as he focused his attention onto Kurt. All rational thought was thrown out the window when he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Kurt’s. Peter found that the other male’s lips were buttery and sweet from their movie snacks. Kurt made a started little gasp and Peter pulled away, his face burning.

“I, uh. I'm sorry,” Peter said hoarsely, his hands were shaking.  _ Oh god _ . What had he done? What an idiot. He just went and did  _ it _ . “I don't know why I did that -- well, no, I wanted to kiss you. Been wanting to for a long time but I don't know why I wanted to kiss you so suddenly today --”

“Peter..” Kurt tried to say, but Peter cut him off quickly.

“So I like understand if you don't ever want to talk to me again, or if we're not friends anymore. That was really uncool of me to just  _ plant  _ one on you without asking first.”

“Peter..” Kurt tried again.

“I’m, like, not even  _ gay _ , but you do something for me. You're really cute. Honestly, you're too precious for this world we live in. You're also very limber and toned from when you lived in the circus and that's a very big turn on.”

“PIETRO!” Kurt yelled and that got Peter’s attention really quick because Kurt hardly ever raised his voice. Peter dared a glance in Kurt’s direction and found the other boy’s face almost entirely purple. Kurt had his tail in his lap and he was holding and stroking it nervously. “I’m not mad. It’s okay. I.. I liked it?”

Okay. Peter wasn't exactly expecting that. In his dreams, maybe. But real life? Nope.

Peter coughed, “um, you liked it?”

“Ja.. It was very nice. I liked it.”

“I should hope so,” Peter jokes awkwardly. “I’ve had a lot practice kissing people.”

He's never so much wanted to turn back time and smack his own self upside the head before than now. 

“That’s good,” Kurt says softly, looking away, still fretting with his tail. “Because I would like to..try it again?”

Peter retracts his statement from earlier. He wants to go back in time and high five himself. Or kiss himself. Would that be incest, or like masturbation? 

Peter gaps, open mouthed at Kurt. He tries to speak of couple of times but fails, only to lapse into silence. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to gain control over himself.

 

“You really wanna kiss me?”

Kurt nods his head, his cheeks still a dark violet. Peter scoots forward eagerly.

“Are you sure? Like really sure? Because I would totally understand if you’re like lying to save your friend some pride.”

Kurt shook his head, “no, I want to kiss you, Pietro. And maybe touch?” 

 

“Yeah,” Peter says a little breathless, hardly believing his own luck. “I would like that a lot.”

 

Kurt placed his hands timidly on each side of Peter’s face, his fingers shaking as he stroked the sides of Peter’s jaw. Kurt’s fingertips trailed along his jawline before swooping down over his throat, passing and pressing over Peter’s adam apple momentarily. Peter relaxed into the ministrations and let Kurt explore. Kurt stops just at his collarbone, tracing along the curves of the bone there. Kurt smiles softly.

 

“I didn't know what had happened over the time we spent together. I've..never truly had a friend before and I began chastising myself for lusting after you. I thought I was selfish for wanting to have more. It’s quite a relief to know you want me as well.”

 

_ Shit _ . Peter really doesn't deserve this little beam of sunshine. He really doesn't.

 

“Peter, you're a very kind person underneath all the jokes. You often put yourself down in attempt for a laugh to bring others amusement and sometimes I fear you begin to feel less than what you're really worth. You are a jokester. Not a joke.”

 

Fuck -- Peter's lost on what say, solely choked up on his emotions. Was Kurt really this fucking perceptive?? 

 

“Shit,” Peter’s voice is a wreck and his words crack with emotion. “I thought we were kissing. Not trying to make me cry like a fucking girl.”

Kurt laughs and Peter swoops in, lips pressed against each other hard. Kurt's hands fisted into the collar of Peter’s shirt, probably stretching it to hell but he doesn't care. Because he has Kurt. Peter swipes his tongue quick against Kurt’s bottom lip and he's awarded with an open and hesitant mouth. 

Kurt startles but doesn't fall back. He surges forward, practically falling into the older boy's lap, hips straddling his waist. It’s only until Peter feels Kurt’s erection against his stomach does he end the kiss. Kurt whimpers at the loss of contact and blinks confusedly at him, looking a little miffed.

“D-did I do something wrong?” Kurt pants.

Peter places his hands on Kurt’s hips and groans. “Nothing at all, blue. Just— look I'm older. Like a lot older.”

“You're not that much older,” Kurt protests.

“Point is, I'm an adult and we’re going no farther until your next birthday. Don't think I can't feel your wurst poking me.”

Kurt’s blush, if possible, darkens.

“Oh, you're the worst.”

Peter laughs, places a kiss on his mussed up hair and cuddles with the younger boy.

“Yeah but you like me. A lot. Like a lot, a lot.”

Kurt huffs against his chest.

“I love you, Peter.”

“Love you too, blueberry.”

 

Peter will forever deny how his voice had choked with emotions.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that you're done reading it you'll notice I mixed movie and comic canon in here quite a bit. Since Madga isn't Peter's mom in the movies (wtf??) I decided to leave his mother unnamed and that he and Wanda are still raised Marya and Django Maximoff. His mother was also canonically a roma jew and so was Kurt's foster mother, Margali. But I decided to keep Margali powerless.
> 
> Also I had to make up the whole 'how did Kurt end up in that fighting ring'
> 
> Also (again) I don't know Peter's real age. There's a ten year difference between xmen:a and the second movie, but I figured he was probably in his mid or late twenties (because it makes sense ya know?). And I kinda snuck in Hank/Raven because I can honestly imagine him being like a father to Kurt. I apologize if the characters are too ooc!
> 
> p.s it's my own personal headcanon that Peter calls Kurt blueberry :')))


	8. Caged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was born/created while I was thinking of other ways Warren and Kurt could've met and because I was listening/watching to Sia's elastic heart video. So Warren and Kurt meet, again, in a cage. Cue even more angst.
> 
> Also the second part's Warren's p.o.v and how he is dealing and stuff.
> 
> It's about 1330 k?

 

        Kurt's awoken by the sound of something shuffling. He can't identify what's causing the sound as he's still blindfolded, his captors having learned quickly about his 'abilities'. He's sitting on something soft, a pallet of thick blankets and with pillows supporting his back. His hands are unbound now, thankfully. But before he reaches out and takes off the material that's covering his face a voice calls out.

"You won't be able to take that off."

Kurt lowers his hand, frightened.

The person's accent, male, was american and Kurt was bitterly reminded of the circus's new ringmaster. An american man that had wanted him in the freak show. He had left, despite his foster mother's pleas, only to be picked up by strangers. Kurt shifts in his spot, tail swishing, thinking. "Who are you?" he asks. He's met with silence and decides to ask more. "Where am I? And why can't I take this thing.. off my face?"

"For starters," something cuts through the air and lands beside Kurt, the cold rushing air blowing over him. "The thing on your face is pretty much strapped on. It would be pretty pointless to try." A finger trails across Kurt's skin, just skimming over the top of his neck. Kurt's hands shoot upward, patting along the material. It feels rough, heavy. Maybe leather? The strap lays under his neck and connects to the back of his skull where it's held under a small lock. There's also zippers along the back, but they're locked, too. Kurt knows he won't be getting this off anytime soon. He's scared. Trembling. The person shifts closer and Kurt scrambles back. 

"What are you doing? I'm not gonna hurt you, moron."

"How do I know that?" Kurt says, his voice cracking. "I can't even see you."

"Yeah, you can't, but you don't have to worry. I'm like you."

Like him? Surely not from the circus... Wait.. had he meant mutant? Was this guy a mutant?

"Prove it," Kurt demands. He quickly backpedals, however, afraid he might anger this stranger. "If you can.. I believe not all.. abilities... are physical, yes?"

The man (the boy? Kurt can't exactly place an age with the mask on his face) laughs," it's okay. And lucky for you, so much not for me, my mutation was pretty physical."

Kurt jumps when he's surrounded in a downy embrace. Wings. They're wings. His hands reach out and brush over the feathers, smiling. 

"Hey you might be smiling now but wait until I start molting," the man comments, sounding only slightly irritated.

"They're.. they feel very beautiful." Kurt responds.

"God, you're weird. Where did they pick you up at?"

"What? What do you mean? Are we still not in Germany?"

"Nope. Pretty sure we're, like, in South America or something. It's not like our kidnappers are forthcoming with information, so who knows really. I from America, Los Angeles native."

The stranger's reply panics Kurt. He had known his captors would be moving him, but never did he once think that it would be outside his home country. His chest tightens and suddenly it's hard to breath. Coupled with the mask on his face he feels trapped. Helpless. He claws at the mask with desperate hands, ignoring the string of filthy curses that come from the stranger.

"What the hell are you doing?" the stranger hisses. Kurt wails when his hands are snatched into a tight grip, his wrists aching painfully in the tight hold. "You're clawing your whole fuckin' face up, man! Stop it!"

Kurt kicks out, only to have his leg pinned under a knee, his wrists above him and still being held. " _You let go_!" he shouts back, wriggling underneath. His tail whips through the air and finds a target, slapping across the stranger’s face and drawing blood. Under any normal circumstance Kurt would've been horrified that he had hurt someone enough to draw blood. But he's just so desperate, wanting to get this thing off his face and go back home to his mother. His brother and sister. He'll even be part of the freakshow willingly, now. He bucks and twists in the hold, the leather of his mask hot and wet with tears, crying all the while. "Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! I want to go home! I want to go home! I want to go home! You can’t kee--"

Kurt shrieks shrilly as he's lifted bodily up from the floor and swept into feathery hug. A muscled body is held tightly against Kurt's own body and his face is pressed into the rough material of a jean jacket, staunching his flow of tears.

"Don't you understand?" the stranger says a shaking voice, sounding much more broken than he had earlier.. "You're never going home, again. _We're_ never going home. _Again_. We're part of some sicko's collection! The sooner you forgot about before the better it'll be. Understand?"

Kurt trembles in the hold and remains silent, sniffling.

"Do you understand?"

Kurt nods his head sobbing. He's dropped from the hold and led back to the pallet.

"Just sleep it off, man. You'll feel better. Cause I ain’t gonna baby you after this."

The stranger leaves in the ruffle of feathers. Kurt lays on the pallet, curled up in a ball and still crying. Crying eventually tires him out and he falls asleep, dreaming of angels and his mother's hugs. Of his sister's smiles and brother's jokes. He dreams of _home_.

__________

      Warren had watched silently as the guards had came in and laid the new boy down on the pallet below. The newcomer was blue with strange markings, a tail, three fingered hands and two toed feet. He’s never seen a more outrageous mutation before and he pities the guy. Warren calls down to the guards from his nest, curious.

“So who’s the smurf?”

Once they’ve got the kid laid out and straps a leather mask to his face, they then face his direction and answer him. One of the nicer guards, Jacob, smiles and waves. “Some german kid from circus. Heard he got ran out when the owner wanted to put ‘im in the freak show. Lucky we got ‘im for the Boss, huh?”

Warren tries to not scowl at the mention of Boss. He’s not allowed to know his collector’s name, but has to substitute using boss. It’s a ridiculous title, and that’s what probably makes Warren the maddest about all of it. That he isn’t even worthy to know his own captor’s fucking name. The guy’s a serious creep, too. He never actually interacts with Warren. Thank god. But he watched him, silently. Always just looking. Warren’s never heard him speak before. Almost half suspects he doesn’t speak.

“Found the little fucker riflin’ through trash like some dog, conked him over the head and lights out. He’s been the easiest so far,” the guard, Michael brays. He laughs and reveals the silver gleam of a capped tooth. Warren’s never wanted to hurt someone so badly before. But he’s learned his lesson since last time he’s tried to hurt any of the guards. His wings had been bound in a straight jacket and he wasn’t able to move for week, having to be hand fed and bathed by the staff. Warren doesn’t want to experience that ever again.

Warren rolls his eyes and shifts his gaze back over to his new.. roommate. The kid’s still sleeping soundly. Probably doped up on whatever the doctor’s give him.

“What’s with the mask? He’s not gonna be Hannibal on me, is he?”

“Nah..” Michael replies. “He’s a teleporter. We found that out the hard way. He woke up at the doctor’s and poofed right into the hallway, trying to escape but we got him. We roughed him up a bit to tell us more. Said he could only teleport to places he can see.”

Warren pities the guy even more. He shifts in his nest from rafters above and sighs.

“He got a name?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t ask ‘em. But you know how Boss is. Might give him a new name.”

“Right..”

Warren been re-christened with the name Seraph. Just another weird name for an angel, or something.

The guards leave and Warren watches from above, awaiting the moment when he’ll have to tell the newcomer his fate. Anger curls up inside his belly and he feels sick. His hands clench and shake. One day, he’ll leave this place and take Boss’s head as a prize with him. Never again will he be a victim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you liked it! I did and I was considering to make this longer but found myself unable. I just don't know what I'd be able to do further.. so you guys could, like, take it and use. Lol.
> 
> Annndd I noticed a lot of you asked for a second part to Silverblue (chapter 7) and I can happily tell you all that I'm working it!


	9. author note

Hey guys just wanted to let you know I'm not dead or abandoning this story, I just have a lot going on.

Family, money and mental health issues. Depression is really ruining my life at the moment and I find myself having a lot of trouble to write but it's slowly getting there. I promise!

I have about 2 one-shots that are almost finished! Hang in there please (for me)!


	10. silverblue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off I just wanna say — sorry this took so long. I've been battling depression and other various mental ailments.
> 
> Also, I cut this down a lot and couldn't find myself to fully finish the second part.

 

"Okay, so I'm just gonna go out and say it," Peter tells all of them. "How is the guy even _alive_? Last time I heard, Kurt said he was pretty much a roasted chicken in that fallen warbird."

There's a series of groans that follow soon after, with a couple of chastising glares from Jean and Ororo. Peter just shrugs his shoulders in response because --- _hey_ , didn't this asshole try to kill all of them not even four months ago? He most certainly does not feel bad at all. But he is feelin' mighty pissed off at the moment. The professor had dragged chicken boy into his office with Kurt. Kurt. Who was Peter's.. Peter doesn't even know what they should call each other. Boyfriends? That seemed a little childish and it makes Peter feel very much like a creep given his ten years older status. Lovers is just.. _ew_. And partners makes Peter think of business lawyers and detectives. And cowboys. Peter did not want to imagine his.. Kurt and himself as either lawyers, or cowboys.

   Anywho, why in the hell had the professor dragged Kurt into the office as well? Peter was pretty sure that bird-boy had tried very hard in particular to kill his little blueberry. The only thing that's even stopping Peter from running in there, collecting Kurt in his arms and running back out is because of one of Kurt's established rules of their relationship: no interfering. Which applied to battles, mainly, but Kurt had also been very clear that Peter did not move him unless it was a dire circumstance, or with Kurt's given permission first. And Kurt didn't give him permission. In fact Kurt had hissed at Peter to stay in the living room with the others, assuring the older boy he would be safe and be back soon. But back soon to Kurt is ten minutes, and back soon to Peter is a nano-second. Ten minutes are a living hell. More so when they're all sitting in the living room in an anxious circle. Scott's jittery leg movements and Jubilee's insistent bubblegum popping were driving Peter insane. He really pitied those that lived so slow.

"The professor should've sent him out on his ass," Scott chimes in, looking nervous. "I don't like the fact he's inside the place where we all live."

Peter nods in agreement.

"That's not fair." Jean responds haughtily, throwing her flaming red hair over her shoulder in a _'I know better than you do'_ fashion. She turned in her spot, facing him now. "Peter, the professor's probably extending a second chance to Warren. Your father has even gotten more than a second chance.” _more_   _than he deserves_ , goes unspoken.

"Yeah, but the fucker in there isn't my dad. He's a total stranger. Who tried to kill us. And that's of Charles's own violation, in case you haven't noticed." Peter's pretty sure that the professor and his father might have a little something for each other. But it's a weird thought and he doesn't want to envision the man that helped in his birth be any sort of loving to any other person.

“Ah! But I am also one of the fuckers, Peter.” Ororo adds. “And I was given a chance. I had tried very hard to electrocute you all...”

Jean smiles at Ororo, and gives Peter a raised eyebrow in response. "Oh, so now you and your father are no longer strangers? You've finally sat down and talked with him?"

Peter looks away because damn it he can't stand the look on Jean's face right now. It's the same look his sister took on whenever she was right.

"How'd you know his name?" Peter asks, hoping to turn the conversation in another direction.

"Telepathic, remember?" Jean says as she taps a dainty finger against her temple. "That and I have a pretty good memory. I heard Ororo call him by his name a couple of times while we were all fighting."

Peter makes a noise, remembering.

"I mean, what's so bad about this guy?" Jubilee asks. Peter wants to tell her to shut up but then he remembers he's supposed to be an adult, and that Jubilee hadn't gone with them. So it's not like she knew this guy was a total dick.

"He was one of the guys that tried to destroy humankind. And like Peter had mentioned earlier, I thought the guy was dead, too." Scott answers with a sigh. The brunet flops down against the couch, flopping over Peter, who pushes him down to the floor. "Get off me, four eyes. But what I don't understand is why the professor had to bring Kurt in there too."

"Kurt knew Warren from before." Jean replies, as if it were nothing and common knowledge.

This is certainly the first time Peter's ever heard of it.

"From before? What --- what does that even mean?" He really hopes he doesn’t sound as hysterical as he thinks.

"Kurt's only told me once, something about a fighting ring. And maybe you should ask him about instead of me. "

Peter does not trust Jean. Not at all, and she probably knows more than she’s letting on.

"Oh so you only rifle through his brain any other time, huh?" Peter attacks.

"Hey, guy. What's your deal?" Scott calls down from the floor. "I get you're all mad because of the winged douchebag in there but don't take your anger out on my girlfriend."

Peter grimaces at the both of them. "Gross.. you guys are doing the do?"

Jean rolls her eyes and moves across the room, now sitting with Jubilee and Ororo, whispering something into their ears.

Scott's face reddens, and before the younger male can get off the floor and argue the professor announces his presence to everyone in the room.

"Good afternoon, everyone." he gives an odd look to Scott, who's still lying on the floor. "I'm certainly surprised I hadn't caught any of you eavesdropping."

Peter gives him thumbs up, craning his neck to look behind the guy. Still no Kurt. Charles notices him looking and smiles.

"He's helping Warren settle down in his room. Kurt's graciously decided to share half of his room."

Peter does not feel sorry when both Charles and Jean wince from his inner mental screaming. "Yeah, how about chicken boy gets his own room? Maybe a motel? How about a ditch?"

"Need I remind you that half of the school is still being renovated? A lot of the students are rooming together at the moment," Charles says with a frown, fingers to his temples. "And I understand the hesitance about Mr. Worthington--"

"Oh my god his name is _Warren Worthington_? Jesus shit fuck if that isn't the most pretentious name ever!"

Peter withers under the glare he gets and he shuts his mouth, quickly.

"As I was saying, Mr. Worthington even allowed me to examine his mind to prove that he meant no ill will. Warren is entirely harmless and I'm asking you all to trust me. I would never allow anyone under this roof if I had even an inkling that any of you would be harmed."

Jean smiles, "of course we trust you, professor. It's just.. things happen. But I feel like Warren should be given a chance."

Jubilee shrugs her shoulders, uncaring. "I could care less, I didn't fight with the guy so.. you know." She twirls a strand of dark hair between her fingers and smacks her gum.

Ororo nods her head sagely. “I was given a chance after all.”

Scott heaves a sigh, smacking his head against the hardwood floor. "Whatever, but if he tries anything I'm personally kicking his ass."

They all look to Peter. Peter looks back.

"What?"

"Well, are you okay with it?" Jubilee asks.

Peter stands up, so unbelievably angry that they were all so... fine with it. "You all know my feelings on this, I don't want him here. But I'm outnumbered. So whatever. Now if you excuse me, I got a blueberry and chicken to separate."

Before anyone can stop him Peter places his goggles over his eyes and does what he does best. A nano second later he stands in the middle of Kurt's room. He's still going fast, Kurt and chicken boy's bodies are still slow and unable to detect him. Warren, the winged dick, is stooping over the other bed in the room -- the one that Peter usually camps out on ( when he's not sneaking over to Kurt's bed ) --- putting a worn out backpack on it. Kurt's faced away from him, moving half of his clothes out the single dresser in the room. Peter sneers at Warren and decides to have a little fun. He runs his hands through the guy's old greased up mohawk and swirls it around, leaving golden bangs dangling over the kid's eyes. And for extra measure he plucks out a feather and resumes regular speed.

"OW! WHAT THE FUCK!?" The kid whirls around, wings raised high and bangs falling into his steely blue eyes. His wings flap uselessly as he sputters around all the hair. Peter didn’t think he looked so tough now.

"Peter," Kurt says from behind them. "Did you do this?"

Peter shrugs his shoulders and gives what he hopes is a cute smile to Kurt. "Maybe, but I only think it's fair considering he tried to -- you know -- kill us and all." He holds up the single feather and laughs at the look of outrage that passes over Worthington's face. He makes a move forward and so does Peter. He's ready to go, too. Ready to beat the hell out of this kid and drag his ass out of the house and onto the lawn for everyone to see. But Kurt stands between them, hands outstretched in a pleading kind of motion. "Nein! No fighting! And you! I cannot believe you, Pietro Maximoff!"

Okay, saying his entire name when Kurt was mad, that was new. Peter doesn't think he's ever seen Kurt so upset before. Kurt surprises Peter even more when he drags the speedster out by his ear.

"Ow! Ow! OWW! Blueberry, what's the deal!?" Peter whines, tugging pathetically at Kurt's shirt sleeve. Kurt drags them both into the bathroom and slams the door behind them. The younger male turns around slowly, hands poised on his hips angrily and his tail swishing behind him. Peter also notices when Kurt's angry that his accent is noticeably thicker and in between bouts of shouting Kurt reverts back to German without even realizing it. Peter would think it was hot under normal circumstance.

"I cannot believe you! Why would you do so such a thing? And to use your powers to bully a defenseless person.."

Kurt shakes his head exhaling deeply, not even looking at Peter.

"You can't believe me? What about _you_? You're practically acting like you're besties and chums with birdbrain in there!"

Okay, that's not really true. Peter's reaching and that's the best he can up with in a short amount of time.

"I was being courteous! The Professor asked me to show Warren our room and that if I could move some things out of the dresser for him. That doesn't exactly.." Kurt fumbles for a word to use. " _Entail a friendship with someone_!"

"So whatever! Okay, you're not friends but you're suddenly offering your room to share with the guy? What's the deal with that? He tries to kill us. You more so than others I might add. And then Jean was saying things.. Just what was he to you before!?"

Kurt looks at him wide-eyed. "Before?" he asks slowly. "Pietro! I told you!"

"When!?!"

"He was the boy with the wings.. from the cage. Remember?"

Peter internally cringes at his severe fuck-up. How had he forgotten that? The stupid cage that haunted his significant other's dreams.

Kurt sighs and collapsing onto the seat of the toilet, head bowed and knees drawn up to his chest.

"Pietro, why are you so upset?" Kurt's voice hitches, and Peter feels a twinge of guilt in his heart. "Why are you mad at me?"

Peter's a big dick. He might even rival Apocalypse's position of the World Biggest Dick. And he tried to kill most of the population on Earth. Peter kneels on the cold tiles of bathroom and tries to take Kurt's hand in his. Kurt lets him, but his hold is limp. "No, no, no." Peter protests softly. "I'm not mad at you, Kurt.. I'm just upset because he was one of the bad guys and everyone's just, so okay, with him staying there. And then you were alone in the room -- talking with him. I just don't understand why." Peter stops, placing both hands on Kurt’s knees. “I could never be mad at you, baby.”

Peter also silently vows vengeance against Jean for hyping him up. She had made seem like Kurt and Warren's meeting was much more secretive....

Kurt glanced down at him, his eyes red and a little teary, giving a small smile. “Peter, you’re a ridiculous man.”

Peter scoffed, “well to you, maybe but I’m just worried for you. How do I know this asshole isn’t gonna like sacrifice you and bring Big Bad Blue back, or something?”

Kurt laughs lightly. “Has anyone ever told you that you have an overactive imagination?”

“Loads.” Peter replies quickly with a grin. “Someday you’ll even have a chance to even ask my mom and sister.”

Kurt stares at him blankly before averting his gaze, his cheeks a dark purple.

“You.. you would have me meet your family?”

Peter groans and buries his face into Kurt’s legs. “Yes, Kurt. I’m pretty much gone for you. And as much as I would love to discuss it right now can we get back to the subject on hand?”

Kurt places a hand on Peter’s head and moves his fingers through the strands of silky hair, sighing. “Peter, I met Warren inside a metal cage. Where humans were forcing mutants to fight against each other for sport." Kurt said softly. "He warned me that if we didn't fight we would be hurt, and I hurt him. Mystique didn't even try rescuing Warren, or the other mutants. Do you understand the heavy guilt that weighs me down? I feel like I owe Warren."

Peter looks up at him, confused. "How's that? You don't owe him a thing, babe."

Kurt worried his bottom lip with his fangs, his lips darkening from the applied pressure.

"I had hurt Warren very badly, Peter. His wing.." Kurt paused, cursing under his breath and then finishing with a quick prayer in german. "His wing had been burned so badly by the cage. He couldn't even fly normal. I know he had told me to fight -- that we had to fight or the men there would kill us, but I hadn't intended that. And if I had fought him just.... regularly, he wouldn't have met En Sabah Nur."

It takes Peter a couple of minutes to realize that was Apocalypse's name. His real one.

"But, Kurt, even if you didn't hurt Warren --- none of this is any of your fault. At all. He didn't have to join that blue maniac, but he did anyway."

Kurt sinks in on himself, knobby knees drawn close to his chest. "We don't know that... and I can't help the way I feel."

Peter remains on the dirty bathroom floor and tries to think of way to apologize when Kurt's spade tail thumped affectionately against the back of his head. Peter leaned back into Kurt's touch and closed his eyes, sighing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it...
> 
> I'll probably make a third chappie...


End file.
